Adam Lanza Obsessed Teen Charged as Adult in School Murder Plot, But Should She?

The outline of what happened at Lake Brantley High School in Altamonte Springs, Florida, is now painfully clear, and it is deeply unsettling.

On January 22nd, 2026, an anonymous tip came in through FortifyFL, a statewide reporting system run by Florida that allows students, parents, and community members to submit anonymous tips about potential threats, bullying, self-harm, or planned violence. In this case, the tip warned that a student was planning to kill a classmate the following day.

Authorities moved quickly. By the morning of January 23rd, school officials and police pulled two students out of class, Isabelle Aurelia Valdez, 15, and Lois Olivios Lippert, 14.

What investigators uncovered reads like a slow-motion escalation toward violence.

Valdez had allegedly been stalking her intended victim. She photographed him. Memorized his class schedule. Picked a location inside the school, an upstairs bathroom. She later told administrators and police she planned to pull him inside and stab him in the stomach or cut his throat.

In her backpack were gloves, trash bags, wipes, and a large knife. She had tried to sharpen the blade both at home and again at school, with Lippert present. Police say Lippert helped sharpen it and even tested its sharpness.

There were flowers intended for the victim’s body.

There were cigarettes and a lighter because Valdez reportedly expected to be arrested afterward and wanted to smoke.

There was a letter to her parents, written in advance.

Court documents also describe Valdez hearing voices telling her to hurt people and believing that killing this particular student would create a “blood bond” that would bring back Adam Lanza, the Sandy Hook gunman who murdered 20 children and six educators in 2012 before killing himself.

Valdez reportedly told authorities the victim was “perfect” and reminded her of Lanza. She allegedly described the plan as a “fair and beautiful scene of devotion” and spoke about blood rituals that would either restore Lanza’s voice in her head or bring him back outright.

She wasn’t just fantasizing. She was planning.

Lippert, meanwhile, is accused of helping gather supplies, assisting with sharpening the knife, and supporting the plan.

Both teens now face attempted first-degree premeditated murder charges and weapons charges on school property. A judge ordered them held without bond. Prosecutors are charging both as adults.

That’s where I start to have real concerns.

Yes, this is disturbing. Yes, the planning was detailed and dangerous. But charging both kids as adults feels excessive, especially Lippert. According to court documents, Lippert helped gather items and assisted with sharpening the knife. That’s serious, but she did not originate the plot, did not select the target, and did not articulate ritual fantasies about Adam Lanza. She appears to be a cohort pulled into someone else’s obsession.

I’ve seen juveniles do more than this and remain in the juvenile system.

Which makes me wonder what’s really driving the adult charges here.

Granted, this is Florida. But it also raises an uncomfortable question: would this be handled the same way if the primary suspect were not allegedly transgender?

I’m not asserting motive. I’m pointing out context.

What stands out immediately in this case is the shooter worship. Valdez’s fixation on Lanza goes far beyond casual curiosity. This looks like active participation in what’s commonly referred to as the True Crime Community, or TCC. The TCC isn’t just people who listen to podcasts. It’s a sprawling online subculture across TikTok, Discord, Telegram, Reddit, and niche forums where users obsessively catalog mass shooters, circulate manifestos, rank body counts, and romanticize perpetrators. In its darker corners, killers become icons. Their writings are treated like scripture. Their crimes become fandom lore.

For vulnerable teens, especially marginalized kids who already feel isolated, that environment can become a feedback loop. Grievance meets validation. Fascination turns into identification. Identification slides toward imitation.

Valdez’s behavior fits that pattern almost perfectly. The stalking. The ritual language. The prewritten goodbye note. The fixation on a specific mass murderer. This looks less like spontaneous violence and more like someone immersed in shooter culture.

There’s also the unresolved issue of Valdez’s alleged involvement in earlier swatting calls to the school, which authorities are still investigating. This was not a single bad moment. It was a trajectory.

People in the LGBTQ+ community are also overrepresented in fringe online spaces like the TCC, largely because marginalized youth tend to seek belonging wherever they can find it. That doesn’t excuse violent ideation, but it does help explain vulnerability to radical subcultures built around notoriety and grievance.

None of this makes Valdez innocent.

But it absolutely matters when we’re deciding whether a traumatized, mentally unstable 15-year-old belongs in adult court.

What I see here is a deeply disturbed teenager immersed in shooter mythology, showing clear signs of delusion, and another younger teen caught in her orbit.

These are kids.

Yes, they scared the hell out of everyone. Rightfully so.

But nothing about this suggests they are beyond rehabilitation.

Adult charges don’t fix shooter culture. They don’t address the True Crime Community. They don’t undo the psychological damage that leads adolescents to idolize mass murderers. They just warehouse minors in a system designed for hardened adults.

Juvenile court exists for a reason. Structured confinement, long-term psychiatric care, and intensive supervision are all available there. Accountability does not require branding children as adult criminals for life.

If anything, this case screams for sustained mental health treatment, disruption of extremist online influences, and long-term monitoring.

Not symbolic toughness.

Not prosecutorial chest-thumping.

And certainly not sacrificing rehabilitation for optics.

This plot was stopped because someone spoke up through FortifyFL. That matters. But what comes next matters just as much.

Shooter worship didn’t appear out of nowhere. The True Crime Community didn’t build itself. And these kids didn’t grow into this in a vacuum.

If the goal is preventing the next tragedy, adult court is not the answer.

At least this time.

(Sources)